Sugar Kingdom Falling
by HG Rising
Summary: AU. mafia!AU if you read between the lines. At eighteen, Logan is a small fish among sharks until he's not, and Veronica is there for him until she's not. Likewise, sugar is sweet until it's not.


**Sugar Kingdom Falling**

A/N: ...I know. I should be finishing up the next chapter for _Love Letters_, but I've been feeling absolutely terrible (more ramblings on this at the end). This is a _very, very _definite AU, specifically mafia!AU. Inspired by a manga I read that eludes me right now. If anyone recognizes it, please tell me so I can give them proper credit. Essentially, Logan is a small fish among sharks until he's not, and Veronica is there for him until she's not. They start off at eighteen. Lastly, I know some of you guys won't like this. I hope you find some sweetness in it anyway.

.

The door opened, and Veronica was surprised to see that she had been chosen.

"Don't look so pleased with yourself," the old bat bit out.

"Sorry," she said, though she obviously wasn't. "It's hard to do more than make sure I'm not pissing myself out of joy."

They stopped in front of a door, and the woman shoved her inside, locking the door behind her.

There were two other girls waiting there for her, to primp and pamper her.

The bath was more than lovely. Veronica hadn't been allowed one for too long, usually she was lucky if she had a quick, lukewarm shower. The girls had massaged her scalp, rubbing in expensive flowery smelling oils, making Veronica wrinkle her face in disgust. It didn't matter what Veronica thought of it, however, the girls continued with the bath, finally pulling her up.

Veronica's hands instinctively flew in modesty, ignoring the fact that these girls had been _bathing_ her for the past hour or so and had already seen as much as Veronica did on a daily basis.

The girl on her left 'tutted' at her and forced her hands to the side. It wasn't as if the girl was stronger than her, but she knew it was her job and knew what would happen if she wouldn't be able to do her job. She empathized with her on that level. She, too, would be going forth on her first job in a little while.

She and her partner scanned Veronica's body, and it made her want to throw her hands up again, but she stood there waiting for their decree instead.

"She's flat," she said.

"Yes," her partner agreed.

Veronica would have been offended if it weren't true. No, wait, she was still offended and scowled at the both of them.

The shorter girl gave the girl on her left a wordless sign and nodded. Veronica had no idea what if meant but figured it had something to do with dressing her. She hoped it did anyway; she certainly hoped they didn't expect to drag her there naked.

The shorter one left and came back with soft dress in her hands. Veronica called it a dress for a lack of better words. It was luxurious, to be sure, but the high slits and low neckline hinted at its purpose.

And then, seeing herself in the dress, sitting in front of the vanity as the girls painted her face, the weight of her situation finally hit her. She was no longer just an orphan.

"You're ready."

.

She waited in the room for close to an hour.

Her nerves were frayed, and she gave up trying to drape herself seductively across the bed like the old bat had told her to do, as if she wanted to have been chosen. In actuality, she wanted to vomit, so she sat nervously at the edge of the bed, wanting to do nothing more than go back to the orphanage. Then, she bitterly remembered, the headmistress at the orphanage was the reason why she was there in the first place, and her new house differed little from the orphanage.

In her short time in the house with the other girls in their cramped rooms-one of the similarities to the orphanage-, she heard stories of when the other girls were called. From them, Veronica learned to observe her surroundings in order to prepare herself for the person who had chosen her.

She would forever remember the first girl who had talked to her, though. The other girls called her 'Big Sister' or sometimes just 'Sister.' Sister was a girl who had been there for longer than Veronica had been prepared to find out and had taken her to the side on her first day there and seriously told her to just accept who she was now; it'd make things easier for her. Then, she proceeded to tell her all the unspoken rules of the house and what she knew about the shadowy men who would patron at their house.

A man she didn't recognize blindfolded her in the car when the old bat handed her off. She wondered if the other girls had to go through the silly ritual as well. When they finally took the blindfold off, she was dropped off onto the bed. It was ridiculously soft, and Veronica was jealos.

The room wasn't as opulent as the places a few of the prettiest girls had been taken to. If Veronica were honest, it was fairly normal. Veronica guessed it was normal anyway; she had little to compare it to, going off only on the few shows she was able to watch in the orphanage and the 'reading material'-old magazines-offered there. There were little personal effects around, though, but perhaps that was normal as well. Thoughts of what was normal and what was not occupied her thoughts as she sat there.

The door opened and Veronica jumped ten feet in the air.

A man stepped in and stopped when he saw her sitting there, trying not to look as if he caught her redhanded.

She was silent as he stood there. He was examining her, not clinically like the two girls who dressed her. No, this was more.

In turn, Veronica did the same. Fair was fair after all, and she'd really like to remember more about the person they'd sold her virginity to. Quickly, she knew that although she expected nothing, she was still surprised by the person standing in the doorway.

"I was wondering what shit he'd pull for my birthday," he said to himself.

"Excuse me?" Veronica breathed out unsurely.

"Don't worry about it," the man said, still standing there while pulling off his tie. "Just my old man making sure I celebrated becoming a man the right way. Do you want any water? Food? I doubt they'd fed you much if he got you from where I know he did."

Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. The girls hadn't mentioned talking. She wasn't prepared for the talking.

"No, thank you."

"No?" He frowned. "It's not a trick."

She returned the frown. "I'd like to get this over with as soon as possible if it's all the same to you."

He laughed, and it startled her. "No offense to you. I'm sure you're quite lovely and talented, but I'd rather not risk it."

Furiously, Veronica quickly exclaimed, "I'm a virgin, asshole!"

"Is that what they told you to say?"

"I am! Check!"

At that, he laughed even harder, and Veronica's face reddened.

"Fine! Forget it. You look like you suck anyway."

"Now, see, how's that fair if you get to say that about me, but I only get to think that about you?"

"Idiot."

"Real mature."

"I am. Older than you anyway."

"Really now."

"Yes," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "You're what, eighteen?"

He nodded, mirroring her pose and crossing his own arms.

"Ha!" She shouted triumphantly. "I'm turning _nineteen_ this year."

"Congrats."

"Oh, shut up."

"I'll do that as soon as you get back to wherever."

Veronica looked down and fidget a bit on the bed and said, "I can't. They won't come back until the next morning."

"Right. Just get to bed then," he said resigned. "I'll take the couch outside."

Veronica relaxed, happy that she'd get to stay a virgin for just a little longer. She foolishly thought about perhaps escaping before it ever got to that. Then a thought struck her.

"Wait!" She spluttered.

He turned around, and she saw him grin, "What, decided that I won't suck so much? Sorry, sugar puss, still not risking it."

"No," she said emphatically, amusing him, "But... what if they ask me questions about you. You have to stay here and tell me about yourself just in case," she said, wide eyed.

His eyebrows knit together in consternation. "You really haven't done this before, have you?"

"I told you, no," she said, a little more annoyed than before.

"You don't need to know anything about me, and I don't need to know anything about you. That's usually how these things go. Hell, that's one of the reasons why these things exist."

"But what if-"

"I'll vouch for you," he said, cutting her off. "Just get some sleep and feel free to worship me benevolence in your free time."

"Thanks," she snorted, rolling her eyes. "Good night."

.

"Would you just sleep already?" The man called from outside, where Veronica assumed was the couch.

She almost wanted to apologize out of guilt, but she bit her tongue. It wasn't entirely her fault she was there.

"I can't."

"Why the fuck not?"

"I don't know."

There was a loud sigh. "Well, figure it out."

She didn't respond, instead turning for the thousandth time that night. Finally, she called back, "This place feels weird. I don't like sleeping near people I don't know either." She still hadn't gotten a good night's sleep at the house.

She heard a snort from him before the rustling. The lights came on, and she was temporarily blinded by the brightness.

"Alright. My name is Logan Echolls," he said in one breath, rubbing at his face. "I'm eighteen years old, and this is my apartment."

"What are you doing?"

"Letting you get to know me, so we can both get some fucking sleep," he groused.

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

Veronica sat up in the bed, slightly taken aback by his generosity. But, she supposed, he benefited from her going to sleep as well. "What else then?"

He rolled his eyes and grinned tiredly at her. "Why don't you tell me about yourself, too? It'd help me to know that I'm talking to a real person and not some entity that was sent to con me out of my sleep."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "Veronica Mars. I'm the new whore at Madame Bristol's house," she added wryly.

Logan's grin dropped completely, but nodded. "I'm an only child."

"Same. I think. I can't remember much."

"Why not?"

"Before I came to the house, I was an orphan, but before that, I was just a kid with parents," she laughed at herself.

His face twisted in a grimace. He didn't like hearing unpleasant stories but wanted to know in spite of it. "What happened to your parents?"

"Dad was a sheriff, or so they said."

Logan inhaled sharply, and Veronica took that as a sign of his surprise and immediate conclusion.

"Yeah. Some thug got him, and my mom left me on the orphanage doorstep after that."

"So she could be alive."

"Does it matter? She's not my 'mom' anymore. Moms don't leave their children at orphanages."

"I don't like my parents either," Logan offered, though he knew it wasn't the same. At least he still had them, no matter how unfit they were.

They ended up learning a lot about each other that night, and Veronica shared more about herself than she had even with the girls she'd known for years at the orphanage. She felt-or she hoped-that Logan did the same.

They didn't sleep much that night, or at all, and she was sad to see that the sun had risen. She was sad to go back to the house and be potentially picked again.

Logan seemed to sense her worry and told her, "Don't worry."

She scoffed and gave him sad eyes, "Wouldn't dream of it."

The doorbell rang, and it seemed to signal her death. In his apartment, she had moments where she felt her life wasn't hers, and she was just a normal girl, but she wasn't. She really wasn't.

There was an expression on Logan's face as she followed him to the door and opened it.

It was indeed the man who had taken her; he seemed somewhat surprised to see her, and it made her want to laugh.

"Mr. Echolls, it wasn't necessary to bring her to me-"

"I wanted to," he said sharply. "She's a person, you know?"

"And here I almost forgot," Veronica added, giving him a small smile, melancholy underlining it. With mock excitement, she blew him a kiss and said, "See you soon!"

Logan glanced at her with that expression again. "You will," he replied, nodding with finality.

.

But, she did see him again. The very next day, actually.

"Was it as good for you as it was for me?" Veronica asked, trying to play off her confusion when he walked into the room, much like he did the first time she'd seen him.

He chuckled. "Yeah, best conversation of my life."

"What's going on?"

"I told you you'd see me soon."

"So, this is to prove a point," she stated blandly, pulling her feet onto his bed. "Can't say I'm not grateful that you're weird about that, though."

He leaned against the door frame, not sure if she considered him a close enough acquaintance to act freely. "No, this is me buying your friendship in a way. It's the only way I could think of to keep you out of that place," he said seriously.

"Oh."

"The infamous oh," he added with a flourish of his hand, a corner of his mouth turned up.

"Thanks."

"You actually sounded sincere there. How cute."

"Shut up!" Veronica said, blushing, but covering it up quite well by throwing a pillow at him.

Coming to sit beside her on the bed, he looked straight into her eyes and said, "Hey, you're welcome."

"Whatever."

.

Most days, Veronica was called up to 'service' him. Veronica hadn't told anyone that they did little more than talk and eat together, acting as friends would when they hung out. After a week of staying at his apartment in the ridiculous dresses until the man came for her again, he offered her use of his shorts and tshirts.

He couldn't be with her every day though, he claimed mandatory appointments, which Veronica thought was odd because he seemed too young to hold a job of much importance. Those days she wasn't with him, she feared being chosen by another. That, in and of itself, caused most girls to envy her and even hate her, going so far as to pull petty, but malicious pranks, hiding her meager possessions and leaving sharp glass in her bed. She was often sorely tempted to ask him to call for her anyway, but she held her tongue, not wanting to push his generosity.

He told her not to worry about the days he wasn't available as well when she voiced her concerns, but he wasn't the one on the line, so his words held little comfort. It wasn't until another woman, presumably a scout for someone or someplace else, wanted her to come with her and a few other girls that Veronica found out she was 'off limits.'

She waited exactly half a meeting with Logan before she burst with curiosity and asked him, "You made me off limits?"

He was a little startled by her question. They were in the middle of watching _Anastasia_, something Veronica scoffed at because of its unrealistic storyline but secretly loved all the same because of that same hopeful progression.

"Yeah," he coughed, not looking at her.

"Why?"

"Because I know you."

"So if we didn't talk that day, I never would've seen you again, and I would be rented out practically every day to some scumbag?"

He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the screen, and honestly answered, "Probably."

"Good thing you're a light sleeper," she said sincerely and selfishly.

He laughed and finally turned to her. "Yeah. Good thing."

"Why not just have me wait for you in your apartment every night then?"

His face tinged an almost unnoticeable pink in the dark lighting. She had been watching him critically since their second meeting, making sure to know as much about him as possible as to not discourage him from continuing their strange friendship. She caught the change and flushed slightly as well, remembering her position and wondering if he just chose another girl that she didn't know about, and her stomach twisted. Her mind interpreted it as a betrayal, but that didn't make sense. He didn't seem like the type to anyway. He had refused her the first night after all.

Then more softly, she asked, "How can you afford me?" Quickly, she explained, "I mean, I doubt my price is very high, but still. You've asked for me for practically every day for months now, and you made it so that other people can't ask for me. That's got to be costing you a lot. Plus, you're _eighteen_."

Bristling, he told her, "I've got enough."

"But not enough to buy me?"

"You're a person, Veronica," he said, looking at her oddly.

"I'm a whore more than a person."

He winced, "Still a person. My friend."

"Then help me," she said finally after weeks of wondering. "Let me escape. Call the cops. Do something. Don't just slap a bandaid on my problems."

He got off the couch and stood suddenly to kneel in front of her as if to ask for forgiveness. The glow from the TV bounced off of him, silhouetting him and covering up his features. "Your house belongs to the mob," he revealed. "You belong to the mob. This is as much as I can do."

She didn't bring it up again, and thought about what Big Sister said.

.

He brought her tea one day, thinking she'd like it. His mother liked it well enough at least.

That day, he found that not all women were the same, and that some girls, Veronica in particular, were like cats. They never liked what you got them, preferring the inane little things instead.

"Is this really sugar?" She had asked him in wonder, perched at the edge of his couch across from him.

He rolled his eyes in amusement, remembering that she probably didn't have too many luxuries growing up. "Yes."

"But they're colorful?"

"Is that a question or a statement?"

She glared at him, and he smiled back, seeing how comfortable she had gotten with him.

He raised his hands in surrender, humoring her. "It's probably just an edible dye."

She looked at the sugar cubes in the sugar dish he'd brought along with the tea. "They're pretty," she finally declared.

"You eat them, not look at them."

"I'm appreciating them," she said haughtily.

"Then eat them."

"I will in a bit," she snapped, batting away the hand that had tried to shove one in her mouth.

After a minute, he impatiently asked, "Ready now?" He was curious to see how she'd react now.

Sighing, she replied, "Fine."

"Great." He pushed the sugar bowl closer into her hands.

Gingerly, she picked up a pink one decorated with yellow snowflake patterns. She looked at it, turned it around between her fingers, and placed it on her tongue carefully. Almost immediately, she lit up in pure ecstasy.

"Told you you were supposed to eat them."

He didn't think she heard them though because she was busy picking out another to fully appreciate.

.

"Merry Christmas!" She shouted, bouncing on his bed.

Seeing her, he smiled and tossed a box at her.

She deftly caught it but not without indignantly exclaiming, "Hey! Careful with that." She tore at the paper and opened the box gleefully. "Yay! How'd you know?" Mercilessly, she popped two of the brightly colored sugar cubes into her mouth, rolling them on her tongue and savoring their sweetness and lovely texture.

"You weren't exactly subtle with your hints."

She laughed at him, and he joined her, laughing just as happily. It was easy to forget who she was supposed to be, and who he was supposed to be when they were like this. But, then the morning came, and they both remembered.

"Just so you know, the toothpaste is still on my bathroom mirror. The maid refuses to clean it. So, thanks for that."

"Merry Christmas," she repeated.

.

"Do you ever want to go outside?" He asked her.

Her eyes widened noticeably, and she asked him, "Trick question?"

"Curiosity."

"Of course!" She blurted. "They never let us out of the house. They're afraid we'd try to run away," she told him. "They're not wrong," she added with a small shake of her head.

"We can go out tonight, if you want. Eat something other than take out," he suggested.

She nodded eagerly, excitement pouring from her. "I can finally wear that dress you bought me."

He didn't tell her that this was exactly why he had bought her the dress, trying to keep their interactions as casual as he could, trying to keep her from thinking it was a date lest he spook her. He only nodded along with her and waited for her to run and get the dress that she kept in the hallway closet he reserved for her.

.

"I don't think I can eat anymore," she declared after polishing off her dessert.

"Yeah, I don't think they have anymore food even if you wanted," he replied, trying to figure out if he had to roll her to his car.

He paid for dinner, and they both walked to the front of the restaurant, waiting for the valet to come back with his car. A hand pulled at the elbow that Veronica hadn't attached herself to in order to keep herself standing, and he instinctively jerked it out of their grasp, turning around to lash out at the person who dared touch him.

The words were stuck in his throat, however, when he caught sight of the perpetrator.

"Logan, you didn't tell me you were free tonight."

"Because I wasn't, and I'm not," he said, glaring at the older man.

Veronica looked on, confused by the obvious disgust with which Logan regarded the other man.

"My apologies, miss, I didn't mean anything by it," he said, eyes focusing on her. "I just haven't been able to see my son in a long time, and I suppose now I know why."

She held on tighter to Logan and took a halfstep behind him. Logan noticed and he almost growled at him.

Fortunately, the valet returned with his car, and Logan only responded with a tightlipped nod before speeding out of the parking lot.

On the walk up to his apartment, Veronica ventured to ask, "He's your father?"

"In the very loosest definition."

.

Months later, she almost forgot about Logan ever having a father, wrapped up in the paradise she had with Logan. She shouldn't have and will most likely never again. Veronica met Logan's father only once more after the first time and never wanted to ever again.

.

In her and Logan's next meeting, Logan found her on his bed, crying. She'd been crying all day that day and the day before that.

Alarmed, Logan ran to her side, "What's wrong, Veronica?"

"Get away from me," she yelled, voice muffled through her hands and sobs.

"What happened, Veronica?" He asked more firmly.

"Your father," she managed to spit out, still shaking. She thought she'd run out of tears by now, but she was surprised every time she felt her face wet with new waves of them.

Breathlessly, as if he were punched in the gut, he asked, "What did he do?" But, he didn't really wanted to know, didn't need to hear it from her to know.

Dropping her hands from her face, she stared at him with accusatory eyes, "You said I didn't have to worry." Hysterically, she cried, "You said I was off limits! How the fuck did that bastard-how did he-how-why, Logan. Wasn't I your friend? Did I make you mad? What did I do?"

Swallowing thickly, Logan clenched his jaw and shut his eyes tightly, "You didn't do anything, Veronica. It was my fault."

"How was he able..."

"It's all my fault," Logan repeated. "But I'll make it up to you. You won't ever have to see him again. Would that make you feel better?" He asked, trying to keep his voice soft and soothing as he came up to sit beside her and hold her.

She nodded pathetically.

.

Veronica didn't see much of Logan in the next month, but she stayed in his apartment the entire time. She knew he still thought of her and was taking care of her, though, leaving a fresh bowl of pretty sugar cubes on the kitchen counter for her to look at and perhaps eat. Sometimes, she'd fall asleep without seeing him enter once, and she'd wake up only to know he was there by the pillow and blanket left on the couch.

.

She found small gifts, too, though she doubted they were anything less than freaking expensive. She didn't wear them though, keeping them in a box in her closet, continuing to wait to see him. She missed him. In the time following her private meeting with his father, she didn't want anyone to touch her or see her, but she found herself missing Logan's company anyway.

.

Then, when she was dropped off in his room, blindfolded naturally, she heard a snicker coming from behind her.

"Logan?"

"They still blindfold you after all this time?"

"Logan!" She said, jumping happily. Then, she remembered not to embarrass herself, and coughed softly, pulling the blindfold off. "Where've you been?"

"Around. I'm moving soon."

"Oh?"

"Another loaded 'oh'," he quipped, amused. "You're coming with me," he clarified. "If you want to."

Veronica's jaw dropped inelegantly.

He chuckled at her shock.

Closing it quickly, she huffed and poked a finger at his chest.

"Things have changed," he said cryptically.

She nodded in response, not wanting to question her luck.

Then, realizing she was too speechless to provide much more in terms of conversation, he presented her with a emerald necklace, putting it on her and marveling at them both.

"Looks perfect," he grinned.

"But no sugar cubes?"

"Next time," he promised, rolling his eyes.

.

When Logan said he was moving, he was being modest, which Veronica didn't know could even be possible. The house-no, mansion... no, estate?-was _huge_.

"You want me to live with you here?" She asked, gaping at the immensity of it all.

"Yep."

"You're crazy, but I'll put up with it, just keep the sugar coming."

"Of course, sugar puss," he promised.

.

Then, he said they were going to hold a party and bought her a dress to match the necklace.

"Seriously, Logan. How is this happening? You're barely twenty, and I-"

"I'm surprised it took you this long to ask," he said casually, adjusting his cuff links.

"Well?"

"I'm not on the up and up," he told her.

She figured, but she still hoped. "Oh."

"Disappointed?"

"Do I have a right to be when you've practically saved me?"

He stopped fiddling with the cuff links and looked at her briefly before hanging his head in shame, "I didn't do enough in time."

She kissed him, then.

At the party, everyone offered Logan their condolences, adding that his father was a wonderful man. They also looked at her, examining her with unkind eyes and less kind smiles.

Veronica felt unsettled next to Logan for the first time.

.

Somewhere along the way, Veronica fell for Logan. How could she not? Even when she saw less and less of him, she loved him. If possible, more so.

She told him one day over breakfast, "I think I love you."

He didn't move, so she repeated herself, "I love you."

Swallowing, Logan practically jumped over the table to kiss her, allowing her to lead him to their bedroom.

That blissful state lasted for about a week before he had to get back to business, he said, despite her pleading and nagging.

.

Further down the road, Veronica and Logan moved around several more times, each time to a house more opulent than the last, holding big parties, to which Logan told Veronica that she was the hostess, a role she graciously took on, making sure everything was perfect to make Logan proud of her as well.

Eventually, she started to only see him for a few days at a time every other week. And every day she didn't see him, she was left a gift, which she kept in the box she brought from the first apartment they lived in.

At one of their parties, he asked her, "Why aren't you wearing that new diamond necklace I bought you?"

He sounded almost irritated, and Veronica faltered.

It surprised her because he hadn't noticed that she hadn't been wearing any of the new trinkets he bought her. He usually noticed everything about her, though she didn't know when it started.

She tilted her head to consider him and answered, "I don't like diamonds much."

He nodded slowly without much thought that Veronica could see, and they moved to greet another 'business contact.' And that was the end of that, but the gifted diamonds continued.

Veronica swallowed her feelings with a flute of champagne, smiling alongside him, thinking about the ways she might have displeased him.

.

She saw him on and off again after that. But, then he was gone for four months, with her sitting at their home worrying about him-she never truly found out what he did but she suspected, what with the company they kept and the ubiquitous rumors. That time, he brought back another girl an left the next day, telling Veronica nothing more about the girl except that she was going to help her.

The girl smiled at Veronica insolently, and the black sludge in the pit of Veronica's stomach grew.

.

Every couple of months or so, Logan would bring her back another girl, kissing her goodbye when he left the next day, telling her to take care of the girls because they were there to help her. With each insidious grin that greeted her, Veronica's own smile grew less bright until it was practically a scowl, and Logan still kissed her goodbye until he didn't anymore.

.

One morning, Veronica-having lost count of when she last woke up with Logan-woke to a crash and jumped out of her bed immediately.

She found two of the girls Logan just brought in standing next to broken shards and rainbow colored sand at their feet. Veronica glared at them, and they attempted to stand their ground but eventually skittered away. Veronica, at the very least, still had some authority over them.

Approaching the mess carefully, she realized that the girls didn't spill decorative sand, but rather, they had dropped the sugar bowl. Her sugar bowl.

Stepping through the mess less carefully now, Veronica knelt down, ignoring the cuts that went through her skin, scraping her knees. She picked up a sugar cube that hadn't completely been destroyed, maintaining most of its shape, and placed it on her tongue. It was as sweet as she remembered it, but quickly went and gulped down water to erase the sickening aftertaste that remained.

.

Veronica didn't know when the last time she saw Logan was, but she did know when the last time he had visited the house thanks to the latest addition to the household not shutting up about it. She decided to take matters into her own hands that night and went to his room. Though they had previously been sleeping together, she and Logan still slept in separate rooms. Veronica questioned it constantly, pointing out that he usually slept in her room anyway. Now, she wished she had pressed the issue further back then.

She shook her head to free it from regrets.

Breathing deeply, she steeled herself, gathering up her confidence and opened the door.

He looked more or less the same, older, of course. He had to have been. Time only went in one direction, and Veronica was foolish to expect anything else.

She almost called out to him, but he noticed her first and smiled warmly at her. Her heart swelled, and she smiled back, relieved. It didn't last long.

Setting down his book, he told her, "Well, aren't you a pretty little thing."

He had just complimented her, but she wanted to cry. It must have shown on her face because he stood and pulled her to his bed, stroking her hair, calming her.

"It's okay. Is this your first time?"

She did cry at that.

Logan patiently whispered to her, "What do you want, sweetheart? I'll get you whatever you want if it'll cheer you up. Pretty girls should never be sad." He said the last bit teasingly.

Veronica choked back the sobs, registering that he'd asked her a question. She opened and closed her mouth so many times before finally settling on, "Sugar cubes." She looked at him pointedly.

"Sugar cubes?"

She repeated herself, "Yes, sugar cubes." She held some hope as she watched a flicker of recognition in his eyes, but it was gone too soon. Nodding to him, she quietly confirmed again, "Yes. Bright, colorful ones that you can eat. Someone I loved used to get them for me, but... I don't know think he remembers anymore."

"Tomorrow morning," he promised her, kissing her sweetly, reminding her of the very sugar cubes he promised her and used to give her.

He kissed her, and she let him.

.

Logan was true to his words, and in the morning, she woke up alone but had a plate of the wondrous sugar cubes that had first enchanted her set on the nightstand next to his bed. She sat up and took one in her hand, catching the light on them, illuminating the colors further.

She ate one and swallowed quickly.

That afternoon, she simply walked out of the house. No one called her back, and she finally had the freedom she'd didn't know she wanted for so long, so long ago, only to find that it wasn't as sweet as she''d expected.

.

A/N: Yes, that is the ending, a little sad, a little bitter, but it was sweet while it lasted, like sugar cubes. I know I always say this, but I really do hope you all enjoyed this and accept it in lieu of an update to _Love Letters_, which has approximately two or so more chapters, so... almost there. Once again, minimal editing. I just wanted this out there so I could focus on schoolwork more so without it bugging me. That's one of the reasons anyway. I really wonder when I'll have time to edit my work again... This actually could've gone in so many directions, and with a different ending even, but I think I'll save that for another oneshot, if I remember, I guess.

Like I alluded to earlier, I have just not feeling it. It's not that I don't love _Love Letters_ or I don't want to finish it (I really do), but I haven't wanted to touch it or a piece of fanart I was supposed to do because of all the change that's been going on in my life, and I've just really been wanting to feel like I'm back at home. Blah blah blah. Anyway, I will wrap it up as soon as I can, though. Hopefully within the month, but school has started for me, so no promises... sorry :(.

Questions? Comments? Concerns? The office is open, but please be kind in your criticism. I'm having a hard enough time as it is. :(


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